


Coming to Shore

by Variative



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss
Genre: Angst, First Time, Multi, Post-Order 66, also fluff so don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Variative/pseuds/Variative
Summary: Sev did miss what he’d had with Atin. It hadn't lasted long and it had been years and years since then, and whole damn lifetimes inside those years, but he was sorry that it was over. He missed feeling in control of something, anything. He missed the understanding that they'd had. He missed -But Atin had Laseema now. It didn't matter what Sev wanted. It didn't matterifSev wanted.





	Coming to Shore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaasknot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaasknot/gifts).



> This is set roughly four years after Order 66.

The shower in Sev's room was broken.

The _shower_. In Sev's _room_. _Gods_. He felt guilty for even thinking of it. He could use one of the hand towels, run under the hot water from the sink, and even that felt like too much of a luxury.

He remembered, vividly, the unbearable itch and stench of his own piss dried on the insides of his thighs, his ankles, his knees. He didn't remember some other things; they were holes in his memory that he cringed back from from whenever he felt himself sliding towards them. So the situation was that he did want a shower, very badly, and his wasn’t working. Parja was out in town for the day, and the rest of Delta was _gone,_ and it wasn’t a matter Sev wanted to go to anyone but family for. But even though it made him feel small and guilty for wanting it, he was going to do anything he could to get it.

But Atin was at Kyrimorut too. They’d hated each other, sure, but he was as close to being Sev’s squad as he’d had in years—Atin was one of Vau’s, and that meant that there was an understanding between the two of them that didn’t go away.

At least, Sev was pretty sure.

But it worked fine and easy, painless: Atin let Sev into his room and let him use the shower in there as soon as Sev even mentioned that his own was broken. Sev was still a little twitchy about having his back to Atin, much less stripping naked in a place that was effectively Atin's territory. It had been so long since they'd even seen each other, much less held that vicious animosity, but Sev couldn't afford to get soft and vulnerable, not now, not with his body perpetually thin and sore and scarred, not with his lame shoulder.  Not with Vau alive and here and watching after him, constantly.

Sev did miss what he’d had with Atin, though. It hadn't lasted long and it had been years and years since then, and whole damn lifetimes inside those years, but he was sorry that it was over. He missed feeling in control of something, anything. He missed the understanding that they'd had. He missed -

But Atin had Laseema now. It didn't matter what Sev wanted. It didn't matter _if_ Sev wanted.

And anyway, Atin was letting Sev use his shower, which accounted for at least half of the sum total of things Sev wanted right about then, so he couldn't feel too sorry for himself.

Unlike Sev’s own rooms, Atin and Laseema’s were very obviously lived in, a home to somebody. With the privacy of the ‘fresher door locked behind him, Sev took his time looking around. The small shelf  lined with shells and river rocks, the bottles and palettes of blue makeup scattered over the counter, was as unfamiliar to Sev as Coruscant had been, the first time he’d seen it. Sev stood in front of the sink and picked up a dense glass bottle cut in elegant lines, rolled the cool, pleasing weight of it between his palms.

The script on the label was a flowing, loopy font and written in High Galactic, and it took him a moment to puzzle out the letters. It was perfume, and by the look of it expensive. Laseema wore dark, practical clothing often—but she indulged herself with this, apparently. Sev wondered if that was something that had come out of the more unpleasant sides of her employment and personal history, and if like him she privately relished  frivolous and expensive things, and for nearly precisely the same reasons that he did. Anything to feel some kind of control. Anything to feel like something more than chattel.

The mirror was very large, though, which Sev was spectacularly uncomfortable with. He had to keep his head down so he wouldn't catch a glimpse by accident. Laseema probably liked the mirror. She was very beautiful, and the brushes and powders lying carelessly around only made her more beautiful without making her pathetic, like it would have made Sev to cover his scars. Atin's toothbrush was lying next to the sink.

Actually, Sev could feel pretty sorry for himself; it just seemed to come so naturally.

He turned around and yanked the shower controls up hot, kicked his pile of clothes out of the spray and waited for the water to heat. He was being _di'kutla_. Dwelling, wallowing. Sev ran his fingers through his hair, lifting it off the back of his neck, and resisted the urge to scratch at his thighs. The feeling of hair prickling was almost unbearable. He'd thought about shaving the skin smooth, but he didn't trust his hands with a blade in them anymore. Trimming his stubble back with a pair of clippers was the most he could really do.

It wasn’t so bad once he was actually under the water, though. Most things weren’t. Sev had never loved anything as much as he loved a good strong water heater and no reason to drag himself out after three minutes.

He leaned his forehead against the wall and let his skin go flushed and tingling under the strong, hot spray, steadily breathed the warm clouds of steam, and then he pushed himself upright, scrubbed himself off with a scented soap bar and washed his hair with Atin's _osik'la_ shampoo and conditioner. He started to feel better, or at least more out of his head.

Someone knocked on the door.

“What?" Sev called, pitching his voice up so it would sound a little more like Atin's. It wouldn't fool anyone who knew either of them, but it might give him enough time to—

“Just making sure you're still alive," Atin said. “Are you okay?"

“Fine," Sev said, letting his voice drop again. His heart was pounding and he wished more than anything he was back on his ship, drifting three hundred thousand light years from the nearest life form. He closed his eyes and imagined the sound of Atin opening the door.

“Okay," Atin said, and left him alone, but Sev was already picturing him opening the translucent glass panel that blocked off the shower.

Sev thought about Atin's eyes moving over his scarred, wasted body, pictured the look on his face. His wife was gorgeous, perfect, sweet and kind and generous and nothing Sev could ever be. Atin would never want Sev again. It didn't stop Sev from thinking about how it would feel if Atin spread his hand over Sev's stomach, pushed him against the wall of the shower, a curl in Atin's lip and his fingers pressing hard against his skin, framing the scar under Sev's too-prominent ribs. It made something go tight and ashamed in his gut. It still got him hot, though, his cock thickening a little in interest.

Atin touching him was all Sev wanted, sometimes.

Sev yanked the handle, shutting the shower off. Enough was enough. He still had the last vestiges of his discipline, he still had his shame, whatever Vau said when he was pretending that he thought Sev couldn’t hear. It wasn't that Vau was wrong, most of the time, because it was Sev who had got free two years after Kashyyyk and taken another two to accidentally stumble across Kyrimorut without his squad or any care for the people who were supposed to be his _aliit_ now, and it was Sev who had grown his hair out long and impractical and took small frequent pleasure in that one fragment of vanity he'd never allowed himself before, and it was Sev who couldn't handle a real weapon anymore with his bad shoulder and his mangled hands, and it was Sev who wanted to keep running away. It was Sev who had been so proud and tried so hard and who wasn't anything anymore; it was Sev who had betrayed Vau and run from him, when all along Vau had given for Sev, had loved him in his own harsh way. So, Vau wasn't wrong. But Sev still had his shame.

Atin was sitting on his bed reading when Sev let himself and a cloud of steam out of the ‘fresher. Laseema was lying her belly at the foot, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose and a datapad in front of her, a stylus in her hand. They both looked up at Sev with friendly expressions; Atin smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “That work alright for you?"

“Yeah," Sev said tightly. His chest ached. "Thank you."

“Anytime." Atin gave him a strange look that Sev couldn't read or recognize. It was almost—it was almost a little sad, Sev thought.

“What?"

“Never mind," Atin said, looking back down. Laseema paused with the stylus hovering above the screen of her datapad, and then tapped a few times.

Sev crossed his arms. “ _What,_ " he snapped.

“It’s been a long time, that’s all,” Atin said without looking up.

“What Atin means,” Laseema said, rolling onto her side, “Is that he’s very glad you’re alive, and he’d very much like to be reacquainted with you.” She took her glasses off and folded them, the click of plastic on plastic unbearably loud. “I have to say,” she went on, still kriffing _looking_ at him, “I understand the sentiment, Sev.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” It came out a ragged growl, and Sev’s heart was going so hard he couldn’t pretend to himself that he didn’t understand, that he had no idea what Laseema was trying to say and didn’t want very, very badly to be right about where he suspected this was going.

“I want to know you,” Laseema said gently, and it could have been a euphemism, but she could have just meant it, and Sev wasn’t going to be able to make himself move from that damn spot on their carpet until it was laid out straight for him. “I—we want you to be a part of—" she gestured loosely between herself and Atin— "If you want to be.”

“No,” Sev said, a reflexive denial of the very suggestion that anyone could want him in any capacity, and then, “ _Why?_ ”

“Sev, _please,_ ” Atin said, plaintive and urgent, and he got up and crossed the room to Sev and kissed him.

It was nothing like Sev remembered. Atin’s mouth was soft and pliant and a little dry; he was so much bigger now, or Sev was smaller.

“Please,” Atin said, drawing away, not too much, so that it was just the two of them and the warm space between them. “Can we just—can we just try? Would that be something you would want?”

He was so damn soft now, was all Sev could think. Atin was so vulnerable now, and it make Sev kriffing wild with fear, because it wasn’t safe to be gentle or kind or true, for either of them, it wasn’t _safe,_ and he shoved Atin stumbling back and tried to remember how to breathe.

“ _Osik,_ ” Atin swore, low and at himself more than anything, Sev could tell. “Sev, I’m—I’m sorry, I,” and Sev just couldn’t fucking take it.

“Laseema,” he growled, and she just blinked at him, blandly curious, so he went over and kissed her more forcefully that he ever would have done, if he were doing it on his own terms. His hands came up and held the base of her skull under her lekku, and she opened to him so beautifully that there wasn’t any way Sev could really be allowed to have this. He opened his eyes, shifted and glared at Atin with his mouth on Laseema, but the expression on Atin’s face stopped him cold. Atin looked hungry and possessive when his eyes met Sev’s, nothing on him like rage or jealousy or anything but clean desire.

It sent a hot thrill through Sev’s whole body, an answering hunger, and he couldn’t _stand_ this anymore—it had been so long, and he _wanted_ it, and Atin was offering, wasn’t he, so Sev went over and grabbed him and kissed him like they used to kiss on Kamino, lifetimes ago.

Atin kissed back just as hard and met Sev teeth for teeth, sending a flicker of hot satisfaction through him—no matter how soft and kind Atin made himself look now, he was still the same wild dog on the inside, they all were, and Sev wanted to prove it to him and Laseema and everyone else at Kyrimorut who trusted and liked Atin and still looked at Sev with wariness and pity,but Atin put his arms around Sev and drew him in close, deepening the kiss, and that vicious feeling fell cleanly apart and went away, nothing Sev could do about it at all. Sev’s hands slid down and clutched at Atin’s shoulders without his permission, and somehow Atin was kissing him deep and sweet and slow, impossibly hungry, and Sev was letting it happen. It felt so, so good.

Laseema pressed up behind Sev, a sudden small heat against his back. She put her lips against the back of his neck, curled her fingers around his hips, and he moaned into Atin’s mouth. They were holding him up now: his legs were weak and unsteady, and his hands couldn’t grip Atin’s shoulders tight enough to even pretend to support his weight.

“This is good, right?” Atin asked, low and close.

Sev shut his eyes and nodded, and searched blindly for Atin’s mouth again.

“Hey,” Laseema said, “Let’s move this back about five steps, shall we?”

Atin laughed and nodded, and then Sev realized that she meant they should go to the bed _,_ and he recoiled away from the both of them, panting.

“I’m not,” he said, when they looked at him with curiosity and concern, and swallowed hard and managed to choke out, every word like spitting gravel, “I had a hard time getting off Kashyyyk—” the understatement of the whole damn millennium right there— “I’m not as pretty as I was,” Sev admitted, his lips curling in a bitter sneer. And there was the second runner-up.

Laseema stepped up to him and put her hands on his chest. Sev looked down, breathlessly watched her hands moving over the buttons of his oversized shirt. As it came open she said, “I was much worse, you know, our first time.”

“What?” Sev asked senselessly. There were a million reasons he should have stopped her, most of them etched into his skin in one way or another, but he ignored all of them, obediently letting her push the shirt back and off his shoulders, lifting his arms up and letting her peel off the undershirts even though the surety that she would recoil in disgust pounded like a drumbeat in his head. He heard Atin’s soft intake of breath, and then the fabric was off his head and Laseema was tossing his shirts aside and her hands were back on him, mindless of the scars, and when Sev glanced over Atin looked blisteringly angry, but Laseema was talking, and Sev turned back to her.

“I’d never felt good about having sex before in my life,” she went on calmly, no sign of the scared little kitchen girl Sev had used to know, “And I wasn’t about to start then, no matter how much I wanted to. Atin was so sure that we should just call the whole thing off. But I told him that I wanted to, and we kept on going, and by the end I felt almost okay about it all, and I knew that I wanted to try again until I felt better than okay about it. And I wanted to want it, and Atin was very, very good to me, and after maybe a year there wasn’t anything I wanted more in the galaxy.”

“Why are you telling me about this,” Sev croaked. As if it wasn’t obvious.

“Because I get the feeling that you and I might understand each other a little better than either of us would like,” Laseema said kindly. “And I want you to know that we’ll be good to you.”

Sev licked his lips, nodded and swallowed. “I don’t think it’ll take me a year,” he said.

Laseema grinned up at him, bright as a sunrise, and then Atin was there, and Sev leaned in and kissed him again, tried not to shudder when Atin skimmed his hand up the scarred length of Sev’s back. He did shudder, when Atin wound his fingers into Sev’s water-heavy hair and scratched gently at the scalp, and then Laseema tipped him back onto the bed and crawled up and kissed him. Her shirt had come off somewhere, and Sev cupped a breast in his hand, impossibly soft, and kissed the full heavy curve of the other. Laseema’s lek coiled around his wrist, and she made a noise that sounded happy, so Sev kept on in that direction while Atin took off Sev’s boots for him and peeled his pants and underwear down his legs, and then Sev fell back flat, groaning, because Atin had the head of Sev’s cock in his mouth.

“Atin,” Sev moaned, and then moaned again because Laseema was kissing his throat. “Atin, I want you to fuck me,” he blurted out, and immediately knew there was nothing else in the entire galaxy that he wanted more right at that moment, and that if he didn’t get it soon he would most likely lose it entirely.

“Laseema,” Atin said, a question in his voice, which was _not_ what Sev wanted to hear—he’d been hoping for something more along the lines of, “anything you want, Sev,” or, “gods, yes,” or, "no need to waste time with lube, right?"

But then Laseema hummed in satisfaction and swung her leg over to straddle Sev’s hips, and he could only gasp helplessly as Atin angled him and she slid herself on.

Gods, she was so hot inside and so wet, Sev had never, he'd never—he panted for breath and grabbed her waist while she closed her eyes and breathed out,“That’s it,” rocking back and forth a little, and then Atin said, “Ready, Sev?”

“I’ve only been ready for the past hour,” Sev complained, his ragged voice giving him away—kriffing hell, he sounded desperate even to his own ears—and then he was just arching up, shuddering in anticipation as Atin pushed a slick finger into him.

He didn’t waste time on Sev, which was good because between Atin’s unfairly clever fingers and the slow clench of Laseema’s body as she rode him ever so slightly, he wouldn’t have lasted for it—he almost didn’t last for Atin pushing into him, the sweet almost-unfamiliar burn and stretch and then the full hot weight of him deep inside Sev, the feeling as Atin started to move, as Laseema started to move, and Sev just held on for as long as he could, pulling Laseema down and kissing her and kissing her, because he didn’t want to know what words would come out of his mouth if he let them.

Laseema came first, crying out into Sev’s mouth with Atin’s fingers between her legs, the clench of her body around his cock almost too much to bear, and when she was done she slid off Sev and straddled his chest and let him smell himself on her, taste himself between her legs and muffle his own noises while Atin hitched Sev’s legs higher on his waist and karking pounded him within an inch of his life.

“Oh my gods,” Sev said faintly, after. Gingerly, he pushed himself further up the mattress so his feet weren't hanging off the side. Then he lay back down. Atin was sprawled facedown next to him, breathing hard, and his hand quietly found Sev's. Their fingers laced together, and Atin squeezed, running his thumb over Sev's index finger. He wasn't sure if Atin could feel how Sev's hands had been broken and busted up and healed badly from it. Somehow none of that seemed to matter to him. Laseema got up from Sev's other side and Atin lifted up their hands so she could wedge herself firmly into the tiny space between them, and then brought them back down when she was situated. It ended up with Sev's arm bent so his hand was up by his shoulder, and Atin's arm was stretched across Laseema's back, but they hadn't had to let go of each other.

“Welcome home, Sev,” Laseema mumbled sleepily. Her lekku twined around his and Atin's wrists.

And he was home, wasn’t he? Finally he was.


End file.
